That was until the crowd started to cheer for him tonight. Something lit up inside his body and put that one last spark in his stroke that he needed. Watching it from my end, I know I’ve never seen him swim so fast. He almost looked jerky in the water, like it was his first time, but with determination he continued to propel himself forward and at the turn, he had a good half-body length ahead of everyone. It was an easy win for him; one he didn’t think he actually won.
His interview after was endearing. He told the reporter his eyes went straight to silver and when he didn’t see his name, he was deflated, thinking he didn’t even medal. It wasn’t until people started chanting that he’d realized he won.
When he spoke into the camera, I wanted to think he was speaking to me, that he was trying to tell me he wished I were there. Believe me, I wished I were there too. I would probably blow our cover anyway over the excitement ripping through me.
You never know how much someone else’s goals matter to you until they’re accomplished.
“Want to order some pizza?” Jonathan asks, his lips close to my ear.
I pull away and look him in the eyes, trying to read him. His grip stays tight on me and his face is full of . . . lust.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t say anything, Paisley. Just know, if that dick ever hurts you, I will be sure he can never pose in front of a camera again.”
Leaning forward, he kisses the top of my forehead and sighs. “If things were different, we wouldn’t be sleeping in separate bedrooms.”
My brain literally can’t process what Jonathan is saying. Does he like me? What an elementary school thing to think . . . but does he?
Well, it’s kind of obvious now, especially with his bedroom comment.
“Jonathan, where is this coming from?”
On a separate note, I hate that Reese was right, and that every conversation from
When Harry Met Sally
is coming full circle.
He shrugs. “No clue. But don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You are in love with someone else, it’s evident in the way you’ve been mourning the loss of him. Let’s get some pizza, watch some more men dance around in tight spandex, and maybe make out a little.” He laughs, lightening the mood.
Playfully, I slap his chest and get off his lap. “We are not making out.”
“Fair enough.” He nods with a smile. “We will just have to heavily pet each other then. Believe me, I’m not opposed to the idea. I’ve been lotioning.”
Going to the drawer of menus, I pull out the pizza one and say, “No heavy petting either.”
“A little leg humping?”
“No.”
“How about a quick flash of the boobs?”
“You can flash me your boobs.” I giggle.
He thinks about it for a second and says, “All right, final offer. I flash you my boobs and you walk around in nothing but a thong and heels. Seems like a pretty fair trade to me.”
“No!” I laugh. “How is that a fair trade?”
“I’ve been giving you free shows for years, sweetheart. It’s about time I cash in on my roommate privileges. Strip down.”
“First of all,” I walk toward him looking down at the menu, “I didn’t ask for your free shows. I’m pretty sure I told you to put clothes on every time, and second, getting naked is not in the roommate privileges.”
“Is it in mine.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You’re ridiculous, because of that, we are getting pineapple and ham pizza.” I wince and say, “Want to pay?”
His lips thin. “I will pay if you let me grab your boob just once.”
“Isn’t that prostitution?”
“Not if we don’t let the cops know.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab his hand, place it on my boob and then shoo him away. Like a spry young man, he hops off the sofa and does a little jig. “Hell yeah! One step closer to naked Tuesdays.”
He takes off to grab his wallet as I call out to him, “Never going to happen.”
When he’s in his bedroom, I turn back to the screen where another race is about to begin, Reese out of sight. I sigh to myself and look down at my phone. If only I could get in contact with him. Would he want to see me again? Or is so mad at me that there is no reconciling our relationship?
There mere thought of never seeing him again . . . ever, hits me hard and once again, tears start to flood my eyes just in time for Jonathan to see.
“Shit,” he mutters, sitting next to me, and pulling me close again.
“I love him, Jonathan, and I may never see him again.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
Pizza is never ordered, but instead, Jonathan holds me while I cry myself to sleep.
***
“Give me the grandslam with sausage, scrambled eggs, and pancakes,” an elderly gentlemen says as I grab his menu and stuff it under my arm.
I turn to his breakfast companion, an elderly woman, whose wrinkles are dropping over her eyes. “And what can I get you, ma’am?”
“I will take the steak skewer and egg skillet, extra meat,” she says in her very shaky old-lady voice. As I take her menu, I wonder if her dentures will be able to hold up with her meal. “I love my meat, isn’t that right, Carl?”
“She sure does.” Carl winks at me as I throw up in my mouth.
Old people really need their own island.
I smile politely, avoiding a sarcastic thumbs up, and walk over to the register where I plug in their meals.
It’s been three weeks, yes, three weeks since I left Rio. I quickly found a job at Denny’s, serving early bird specials to the elderly and scraping the grease off my body every day when I get home. There are zero prospects for me in the production field, and I haven’t heard one word from Reese since his return.
How do I know he’s home? Well, that’s easy, he’s been all over the media. It’s hard not to know what he’s doing on a daily basis. I’ve now avoided all Internet use and refuse to watch TV. When I’m home, I’m either allowing Jonathan search for jobs for me, hence the no-Internet use on my end, or I’m watching sappy movies in my room while I cry silently so Jonathan doesn’t have to once again coddle me.
Bellini has surprisingly been out of the limelight, given her pension for needing a camera on her at all times. After Reese won gold, I haven’t heard from Melony, and the only one who really talks to me is Lauren, but that’s been infrequent.
Jonathan has been kind and caring, but I can’t help think he has ulterior motives. Ever since he confessed his feelings for me, he’s been overly touchy and has made it quite clear he doesn’t mind being naked in front of me.
One night, I actually caught him jacking off in his bedroom, and to my surprise, I watched him for a few seconds before he winked at me. I squealed, running out of his room. I’m not going to lie, I was a little turned on, but I think it’s because I miss Reese and everything about him. Yes, Jonathan has a nice penis but it’s not one I’m interested in.
“Why is it you always get the interesting couples?” Tammy, a veteran of Denny’s, asks as she saddles up next to me. “Look at them, they’re Frenching over the jellies and jams on their table.”
I turn to the elderly couple and cringe when I confirm what Tammy pointed out. Yes, they are indeed Frenching, but instead of their mouths being pressed up against each other, their tongues are barely flicking each other.
“That’s so revolting.” I shake my head and continue to put in the steak skewer meal, which I will never look at the same again.
“Looks like Dottie sat another person down for you over at five. Want me to bring him some water?”
“No, I’ve got it.” I quickly finish up, grab a water and head over. The person’s menu is covering their face so I don’ see them until I say, “Hello, can I get you anything else but water?”
Slowly, the menu folds down and I gasp.
“Why hello, Paisley,” Jasper says. “It’s good to see you.”
Looking around quickly for my manager, I say, “Jasper, wow, what brings you in here?”
“Peanut butter pancakes. Saw a commercial, had to try them.”
“I’ve heard they’re good,” I say, putting on a professional front, even though I’m mortified and slowly dying inside.
He nods and says, “You like working here? Seems like tips wouldn’t be the best, given the crowd of senior citizens.”
“It pays the bills.” I shrug. “Umm, so would you like the peanut butter pancakes? Or would you like more time to peruse the menu?”
“Neither, I would like for you to come work for me.”
“What?” I ask, shocked from his honesty.
“I want you to work for me, Paisley.
Rollin’ in The Bacon
needs a production assistant and after watching you handle Bellini, I don’t want anyone else.”
I bite my bottom lip as I think about what he’s asking. He wants me to be a production assistant? That’s huge. But he wants me to do it for a show I don’t think I could watch. It killed me seeing Reese with his hands on Bellini when we were together, but now we’re apart, I don’t think I could stomach it, let alone give them direction.
I waver with my answer but finally say, “I don’t think I can.”
Not even blinking, Jasper says, “You know, funny thing, we took a poll with some viewers over the upcoming season and the relationship between Reese and Bellini. Do you know what they said?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“They hated it. They hated everything about the two of them together and said they wouldn’t continue watching the show.”
“Really?” I asked, a little surprised. “I would think Reese would bring in more viewers.”
“Testers said they would watch a show about Reese, but not them together, and do you know why?” I shook my head, a little too interested in his answer and completely forgetting about everyone else around me and my tables that need serving. “They tune in to the show because they love to hate Bellini. She’s a type of talent that people can’t look away from because she’s so asinine. But Reese, he’s an all-American. Viewers respect him and can’t possibly understand why he would attach himself to someone like her.”
“That makes sense.” I nod in agreement.
“Plus, it would be hard to pass off their relationship when you two are clearly in love.” A smile spreads across his face as I nearly choke on my own saliva. “What? Didn’t think I noticed? I’m much more observant than you think I am.”
“I didn’t . . . I mean . . . we were careful.”
“Well, I didn’t quite know, Jonathan told me.”
“He what?” I whisper shout. “When did he tell you?”
“A couple of days ago when I was asking about you. He told me the whole story and said despite your mingling with the talent, you’re good at your job and deserve a second chance. I couldn’t agree more. So, will you do it? Will you take Bellini off my hands and put her in her place? I need someone strong who can take her crap.”
“I don’t know.” I bite my bottom lip as I think about throwing my apron on the floor and walking out the door with no regrets, but then, the fact that I would have to work for Bellini again hits me. “She is a demon, sent from hell.”
“That’s quite true,” Jasper nods. “But, this go around, you will be in charge of her and will have the upper hand. See how that little switcharoo works?” He plays with his napkin and says, “Plus, we’ll pay you well to deal with her.”
“You’re serious? You really want me back?”
“I do. You’re a good worker, Paisley. Let’s just not have any more lies about being a lesbian or falling in love with the talent.”
I cringe and nod. “Yeah, pretty sure there is no way in hell I’ll ever fall in love with Bellini, or Buddy Chambers for that matter.”
“Heart set on a gold medalist?”
My stomach flips from the mention of Reese being a gold medalist and then I remember, he hasn’t spoken to me since he’s been home. That last little ray of hope I had for when he returned vanished the minute he didn’t come see me. And still hasn’t.
But what did I really expect? I left him during the most important time of his life, probably mind-fucked him pretty good, and didn’t even give him an explanation. Hell, I would stop talking to me as well.
I shrug. “It’s all could have beens by now. But I’m happy for him, so beyond happy for him.”
Jasper doesn’t say anything, just thins his lips as he seems to ponder what I said.
Breaking the silence, he asks, “So, are you in?”
“Absolutely,” I respond, loving that at least one piece of my life is back in the game.
“Good, because you’re the only one I want. You start tomorrow. Now, I will take the peanut butter pancakes, a side of bacon, and some orange juice.”
“You got it.” I smile, feeling a little renewed. Looks like Jonathan is still looking out for me. I owe him a lot, just not a flash of my boobs. Those are saved for one man . . . well, at least they used to be.
I walk back to the register and key in Jonathan’s order while my hearts sags in my chest. Yes, I might have a job, but I’ve realized it’s not what is going to make me happy on this roller coaster of life. I once thought I was the type of person who was career-driven and wanted nothing but to climb the professional ladder. There might be a little bit of that spirit inside me, but what makes me truly happy, where nothing can probe through my joy, is being in Reese’s arms, listening to his husky voice speak closely in my ear while his hand twirls my hair.
He makes me happy. He is the reason there was a smile on my face when I woke up in the morning.
Without him, I feel empty, lost, and broken. He’s changed my entire perspective on life and made me see that a strong bond between two souls provides more happiness than any job or raise ever will.
If only I could keep him. But a girl can’t be that lucky. She can’t have everything.
If I had the choice, I would keep him over any job, too bad that wasn’t the ultimatum Bellini gave me.
**REESE**
Being an Olympic athlete, I’m used to pressure, I’m used to feeling the heat of a situation, so you would think I would be mentally prepared for what I’m about to face. However, by no means am I ready.
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen Paisley, since she was forced out of Brazil and away from me. I had wanted to fly back immediately to find her, but unfortunately, I had interview obligations and couldn’t catch the next flight like I wanted. Apparently being an athlete who’s won one single gold puts you on the top of the list of most important people. I’ve answered the question, “How does it feel to FINALLY have a gold?” so many damn times I’m about ready to punch the next person who asks.